


Wanderland

by Rimaina



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-01-29 15:55:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimaina/pseuds/Rimaina
Summary: The white rabbit came in the form of your ex.Jake's adventuring had brought him to places man had barely explored. A journey to find himself and to turn his back on the past. Following a white rabbit down a hole wasn't exactly his idea for adventure and now he has to go through Wonderland.Through all its circles.You've gone too far to wash away the sins you have.Tags will be updated as story progresses.(Chapters are being edited.)





	1. Bone

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be the first serious fanfic I will ever write, hope you'll enjoy the whole ride.
> 
> Story is set at an ambiguous time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited.

Fresh air, the smell of leaves, trees shielding your body from tropical sun, the kind of solace you find when you’re exposed to nature. The surrounding forest was cool, a bit humid at this time of day. Your hands grasp the canteen at your side, you were running low with water, you best try to find a source of freshwater. You’ve got a few weapons on you, a rifle, your trusty twin pistols, and an ornate dirk safely tucked in its scabbard.

You were out here scouting the forest for some game. Something to bring back to the village’s local inn where you were staying at. The owners were accommodating to you once you told them you were deciding on staying in the area for a while. A little extra meat to put into their pantry wouldn’t be a bad way to say thanks for their hospitality, it’s the least you could do.

You lean on a sizeable tree near you, double checking if your rifle had shells loaded in them. You haven’t seen any of the wildlife yet aside from the birds on treetops. You continue walking around the vicinity, familiarizing yourself with the place. If you plan on staying here for a while longer, you need to know the area, as well as mingle with the locals.

The crunch of twigs and rustle of leaves are the only sounds you hear for some time. You’re farther into the forest now, the village boundaries not visible from all the greenery and slight fog. You’ve used the dirk to mark trees you’ve passed by, don’t want to get lost while scouting the area. Camping outside without provisions is also a bad idea, though it has happened before, back when you were just starting your adventuring.

You eventually stumble across a plain, there’s a river fifty paces from the break of trees. You jog over to the edge of the river, seeing the clear water reflecting your face. You cup your hands to fill it with water, it’s cool and refreshing on your throat. You spot little fishes a few feet from where you are at, this looks like a good location to set a camp in the future. You left the village at daybreak and you didn’t keep track of the time as you explored the forest. The sun was directly on top of you, it’s high noon.

You cup more water in your hands and splashed it on your face. The water feels so nice that you think you deserve some respite from all that walking. You carefully set your possessions on a large rock next to the river, stripping your clothes off and jumped into the river in your birthday suit. The fish from before were startled with the sudden movement in the water as you broke the surface with a gasp. Relief and coolness washes over you; it’s just what you needed.

You rub your arms and legs to get some of the dirt off your body, scrub your face and massage your hair. You don’t recall when was the last time you scrubbed yourself down. Water from the well is always cool, too cold during the mornings. A quick rub down was the optimal route to go if you didn’t want to freeze to death.

It’s unlike the warm baths you take in the city, but this is just as rejuvenating as it can get when you’re out in the wild. Satisfied, you get out of the stream and walked to your stuff. You had brought a small towel with you which you used to dry up. You’ve clothed yourself and filled your canteen, you think you’re ready to head back to the village.

You picked up your rifle and slung it to your back, your holstered pistols were strapped back onto your thighs, the dirk put back into the inner pocket of the sleeveless jacket that you wore. Some of the trees nearby seem to bear fruit so you take note of that little info in case you wanted to bring some back. You wonder why no one has come to this part of the forest to harvest what it has.

You’re back in the forest and plan to go back to the inn. You spotted a few deers heading to the open area you were in, at least now you know that there are some game in the area. You follow the barks of the trees bearing the marks that will lead you back to the village.

Your hands were tracing the marks when suddenly something dances just outside of your vision. The movement startled you but you kept still just in case whatever it was was hostile. 

A sudden coldness washes over you. The type that makes you go into a cold sweat. It was high noon so were confused as to why there was a sudden change in temperature in the forest you were in. It wasn’t that humid at all, the air turned dry and has a chill to it.

The green vegetation slowly became bluish in color, the area was getting colder and darker. There was movement to your right, your hands reach out to your holsters, taking your twin pistols out and stood your guard.

You use the nearest tree to lean to and guard your back, you do not know what you are facing, you didn’t hear anything yet you saw something. The something was about five meters away from you, a phantom of sorts. You look behind you and the tree, nothing else seems to be there except from you and this entity. The back of the figure seemed familiar, you’ve seen it somewhere else before, long ago you think.

It’s unsettling, seeing something familiar after such a long time since you went on your journey, and in a forest too. Bone white hair, looking soft yet ridiculously styled. It hits you like a horse leading a carriage. No wonder it was familiar, you’ve had the chance to get intimate with the whole of the person whose back was turned to you.

“Dirk!” you hissed, voice low lest there were hostile wildlife in range that you haven’t seen. You look around once again, the forest was empty, no sound to be heard aside from your breathing. Something wasn’t right. You tried calling out to him once again, louder this time. “Hey!”

It didn’t look like he heard you, he’s acting like he can’t even hear you at all. Maybe it isn’t him, you may be mistaken. Could you be seeing Dirk’s doppelganger? He looked like he had nothing on him. Why would he go out without a sword or a small dagger of some sort? He looks too bare. He was walking barefoot, his back was straight as he floated through the forest. Wait, floated? That’s not right. You started walking to him, nevermind that your back was leaving the safety of a large tree behind you. Dirk or not, this doesn’t feel right at all.

You decided that it was Dirk. He was there, he hasn’t anything on him, and he looks paler than usual, judging from what exposed skin you can see. His body was heading deeper into the forest, you know that there was a clearing and more forest beyond that. You didn’t plan on going beyond the clearing today. Yet here you are, following him beyond the river, farther into the forest. You don’t know why you haven’t tried calling out again, or walking faster to reach him. Dirk’s body continues to traverse through the greenery, quite literally. It’s as if he’s just an apparition, not the solid mass of muscle that you remember. Your walking speed slowed, nothing makes sense. You had two options, follow the white Dirk further into the forest, or you retreat back to the village nearby and gather more information about local superstitions.

This situation wasn’t normal. Your suspicions were raised the moment everything got colder. Dirk would not go out without a weapon in hand, his favourite eastern sword, most of the time. He would not be here, he would not have been able to follow you to this place. You didn’t notice that your head was hanging low, eyes trained on your feet while you were having a little moment to yourself. You heart feels heavy with guilt. It was not a good thing to leave someone in the air after allegedly dating for years. Memories of the past resurface, but you refuse to continue like this, you have an unexplained sighting right in front of you.

You decided to return to the village, you turn your heels and straightened your back, giving the figure one last glance. You face the other way and tried to head back, adventure doesn’t seem appealing now now that the forest decided to feel like it’s a forest of death. You took one step when suddenly, you feel a chill on your back. You felt your hands let go of your pistols. Frozen in place, you feel a presence next to your right ear, someone -something was in your personal bubble. Your heart was trying to break out of your ribcage, adrenaline pumping into your veins.

“Don’t turn your back on the body” it said, voice vague and airy. It sounded like a taunt. The hairs of your body stood up. You see white mist at the end of your peripheral vision on your right side. You stood there holding your breath until you cannot feel it’s presence anymore. Cold sweat was forming on your temples. You are so not staying at this place, no siree. You hurriedly picked up your pistols, your canteen and rifle juggling as you attempt to sprint out of the forest.

You run. Your breaths in gasps, your mind on alert. The forest continued to have this bluish filter around it. Your back can feel icy tendrils following you from behind. You like the thrill of the situation, it’s something you haven’t experienced before. Except you were trying to run away from something -an entity, you think, that might be leading you to your doom.

Sprinting to reach the end, the coldness of your surroundings was getting to you. The thin shirt and short sleeved jacket that was protecting you from the elements was made for warm weather, not this winter-like temperature. Your breaths come out in white puffs, cold sweat all over your body now. Each minute that passes by feels longer than it should be. You had tunnel vision as your kept running, the animals that you pass had dead eyes, white scleras that glow. 

You were almost out of the forest. Something else was amiss, the village was covered by mist, obscuring your view. It wasn’t like this while you were still far away. Not wanting to look behind you, you try moving sideways, the mist still persists from another angle. It took a moment for you to realise that it’s not that the village that’s been covered by mist, it’s the forest. 

There was a mist barrier separating the forest from the village. You use your hand to test the mist, it’s cold and dense, you’re somewhat afraid to go through it. As if you weren’t having such a clusterfuck of a time from the phantom of your ex showing itself to the whole forest going blue on you. You push through the barrier, it’s pushing you back. You were getting desperate, you tried to put your whole body into it. The barrier wouldn’t budge at all.

The tendrils from a while ago move closer. This is it. Karma has come to bite you in the ass, all your sins crawling down your back. You close your eyes and wait for it to end. The coldness wraps around you. You were so close, a hair close to leaving the forest and back to the safety of the village. Like arms made of ice, you feel them around your shoulders, hugging your from behind. You stand there, eyes glued shut, whole body tense with everything that was happening.

Until it’s gone. Everything was gone, arms, the coldness, that lingering feeling of being chased. You hesitantly open your eyes. The village was in clear view, no more mist obstructing your vision. It was turning dusk, the orange glow of the sun was fading away to a violet blanket over the place. The crickets start to sing as you take a step forward and out of the forest.


	2. Lamp lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I lied. I can't update once every other week.
> 
> Edited.

The lamp flickers as you write on your journal. Occasionally a moth would block the light and you have to swat it away. Your window is wide open, facing the part of the forest you emerged from. The forest looks ethereal tonight, firefly lights litter around the forest. Your mind flashes back to the pupil less eyes of the animals, the cold tendrils reaching your neck. The hairs of your nape stands up. 

A sigh escapes your lips, tilting your head to stare the ceiling, your thoughts wander on what happened earlier.

You wanted adventure, you wanted to live your life freely, no responsibilities, no attachments. It’s not like you’re planning on not keeping touch with your friends and family, in fact, you send letters every now and then. Too bad there is no faster way to send those messages to them, the only option to send word to them on your whereabouts is by courier. 

There is a drawback, they can't send letters to you. Not staying at one place for too long, well, until now. You plan on staying at this village for a few months. It's nice and far from the more sophisticated lifestyle in cities near the capital. The village was on a flatter part of a mountain, surrounded by a dense forest.

A forest that isn’t exactly what it seems. History tells of supernatural tales around forests, stories to give caution to adventurers. While it may be true that there are dangers in a forest, you are doubtful of dangers that involve the supernatural. You were not much of a believer before, but maybe now is the time to change that. Beyond the barrier of trees, back to the river where you took a refreshing dip, nothing else was peculiar.

It was peaceful, the forest, but the lack of animals was concerning. You were told that the meat circulated around the village came from the forest, majority of their foodstuffs came from the forest, so why did you not see any when you were there?

Perhaps you were having a bad day. A frightful one, come evening. The cold reminding you of many things, memories from your travels. When everything else was fleeting, not staying in one place for long. A smile ghosts your lips as you lean on your chair, tucking your arms in.

Your mind wanders to when you lived in a city, bittersweet memories dance about the wooden ceiling. Stone houses, bakeries, craft stores, specialty stores, just around the corner. Festivities were held once every quarter, per change of season. With so much activity happening at one place, you can't avoid hearsays, low whispers, gossipers, coming from dark alleys.

That one time when a carriage just so happened to rush past you, running over a puddle of muddy water and splashing on you and Dirk. The coachman saying shouting quick apologies and going on his merry way. Wherever that may be.

You and Dirk. It’s been a long time since you’ve reminisced the past. He was the only reason why you had stayed in the city. He kept you grounded, he was an adventure in himself. Everytime he opens his mouth, untimely gizmos and projects to progress to the future, what he’ll contribute to society, to make your lives better. So that you could live together.

In public, you were quite the complementing pair. Dirk the builder, designing knick knacks that allowed people to automate small tasks unsupervised. You, Jake, the exotic adventurer, a collector of information from far abroad. The inside of your house was a mess. Masks and mounts on the wall, oriental rugs covering the wooden floors, shelves lined with books in different languages. Dirk has his workshop while you have your office.

Right, your house was something Dirk had inherited from his father. His family was not of the privileged sort, they had what they had. However, it was no secret that his father had his hands on the underground network. They had what they had, mainly because they didn’t want to rouse any more suspicion from their neighbors. If they had more money than what they look like they have, it was never brought up and out.

“That was unfortunate” you say as you assess how much mud splattered on your long coat. Dirk had seen the oncoming carriage and managed to block much of the muck with his own body, the mud splattered all over the calf part of his caramel brown slacks. “It’s a good thing we were heading home, we should soak that as soon as we arrive” you take his arm and lead him in between buildings until you reach the main road.

The smell of rain and lingering cigar smoke hits your nose as you emerge from the shadows of the alley. It was dusk when the both of you got out of work, the chilly air was signalling the start of the cold days. The city sweepers were raking orange leaves away from the roads, the crisp cracking of dead leaves and screech of thin metal wires was a weird but comforting sound.

“We should buy some bread from the bakery, we’re all out of them at home” Dirk eyes the store from across the street, patting his back pocket for his money pouch. He was the type to never enter a store unless he had his money on his hand. You can never be too sure if you still had your pouch on you these days. The start of the holidays usually means there would be a lot more pickpockets on the streets.

You let him lead the way to the bakery, your eyes looking at his form. You can tell he’s cold, he barely had enough layers on him today, even when you told him to bring a thicker coat before you two left the house. The bell at the door chimes as the two of you entered the establishment. The strong aroma of fresh bread reaches your nose. Dirk heads to the counter, the big man behind it was sporting a warm smile. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t Dirk and Jake!” the baker bellows to the both of you. He’s a loud one for sure, his friendliness is what keeps the customers coming back for his buns. Dirk nods to the baker while he leans on the counter. The baker was busy taking some buns out of the oven, the top of the bread has a nice golden brown color on it, you couldn’t stop yourself from licking your lips. “We’ll have some of those and a loaf of wheat bread if you may” Dirk points to his fresh buns while looking for other things to buy from the store.

“Can do can do, Maryanne just delivered some jam she made the apples from their orchard the next town over, want to try some of that too?” The baker says as he takes a large paper bag from underneath the counter, popping six buns into the bag while reaching out for another paper bag to put a loaf of bread in it. “That sounds delightful Mr. Baker” you say, picking up a jar of apple preserves, which you assume was the jam he was talking about, and carrying it to the counter.

Dirk hands the baker the exact amount of coins for the purchase, the jar of preserves he puts inside his satchel. You take the bag with the buns while Dirk takes the one with the loaf. You leave the store waving at the baker. It was getting really dark out, the boys lighting the street lamps to give light to those passing by the main streets. Electricity wasn’t available in the outer parts of the city, not far enough for your house to use any, even if Dirk works with contraptions that need it.

The night was peaceful, the stars are out amidst the blanket of clouds that cover them from time to time. It was a new moon, everything a tad darker than usual. You nestle the paper bag with one hand while ghosting the other next to Dirk’s own hand. He’s quiet as he walks with you to your home. It’s at nights like these that he takes your hand, away from the light of day, no eyes to clearly see if you are holding hands or not. Just two gentlemen side by side, friends, partners, and nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many more lies can I say before we all just break?


	3. Amber

Opening eyes was difficult. It was cold, terribly so, your blanket was nowhere to be found. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, your mouth feeling dry. You yawn and stretch, hearing a bit of a pop from your bones. That really felt good, but you think you’ve read somewhere that if your bones pop it’s bad.

You don’t recall how you got yourself to your bed last night. You were writing a journal entry but you got lost in remembering the past. So much so that you actually dreamt what you were remembering. The journal was left open on a blank page, you failed to write anything about yesterday. You suppose there were a lot of things you could have written, but the events of yesterday were a blur, difficult to put into words.

Maybe you’ll do it after you get ready for the day. Your feet touch the floor, the wood was cold under your soles. You find that your blanket had somehow landed on the floor, you guess you were moving a lot during your sleep, at least you didn’t drool on you pillow, now that would be something embarrassing for the innkeeper to clean.

You pick up your blanket and fold it up neatly before placing it on top of your pillow. You spread the curtains to let in the light of the sun into your room, your window was left open, having forgotten to close it last night. You could see the forest, no longer a place that looks remotely dangerous, in fact, you could see birds flying in and out from the trees. You’d like to avoid the forest for now, yesterday was an experience you rather not happen again.

The wind blows through the window and into the room, the smell of trees and wetness fills your lungs. It’s always so nice to be this close to nature. Decisions need to be made, and you think one of them would be to finally settle here and build a house is one decision you’ll be making. Another fresh start for you to have. Even your journal was relatively new, bought from a Prospitan stall. You left your old journals back at your home.

Home. Something you pause and think about. The shared house between you and Dirk. None of that matters now, you have not returned there for many years already. You doubt you’ll be returning there any time soon.

It’s about time you get moving, you close your windows and pick up the bucket and cloth that came with your room. The back of the inn was fenced and there was a well you could use to draw water from. You open your door and the smell of food hits your nose, your stomach gives a pitiful sound of hunger. You might have skipped dinner last night and head straight to your room after your trip to the forest. You take your key and locked your door, your guns safely inside your room and beside your bed. Wouldn’t want anyone to touch your guns.

Your room can be found on the second floor, there were stairs leading to the dining area, but if you go further down the hall and take a left, you’ll reach a different set of stairs that lead to the back. The outside still has a lingering chill from the early morning, it was most likely nine already, the sun peeking over the trees but not quite in the middle of the sky. You head to the well which has a couple of dividers placed to hide whoever may be washing up at any given time.

Bucket, cloth, and a small bar of soap in hand, you brave the probably cold waters of the well. There was a barrel beside the well, it makes it easier for you to fill it up with water rather than always drawing water from the well if you run out. A small stool was there too. You slip out of your clothes and hang them on the dividers, sit on the stool and pour some of the well water on your legs. Yeah that’s cold, definitely still cold.

You dip your small towel on your bucket, rubbing around your skin to wet it. The soap comes next, you rub the soap on the towel, making is sudsy enough before rubbing on your body again. The wind picks up outside and you really want to get this over with before you freeze your balls off.

You quickly dumped water over your body several times until the soap is all gone. Rinse off the towel before depositing it in your bucket. You fill up the barrel with water and cover it up, courtesy for the next one to use it for bathing. You used the clothes you wore when you came here and wore it again, you’ll change to cleaner clothes when you go back to your room. There were a number of things you needed to do today and you should get going. 

John, the Innkeeper’s son, was carrying a large basin filled with used kitchen utensils, possibly for washing near the well. “Oh, good morning Jake! The water’s got to be cold ain’t it? Quite unlike the city and all their heaters and what not.” He waves his hand in the air, keeping the basin balanced on his hip. “Of course we have our own ways of heating water, unfortunately we haven’t had enough firewood for you to use, I’ll do some chopping once I’m done tending to the other chores.” 

John places the basin and began pouring some water into it. He was using a worn rag to do a quick rinse of the pots and pans that had hardened food in it. If it were you, you would soak it for a few hours before washing it. Sometimes soak it for days without wanting to wash it, until mold starts to form.

Since this is an inn, your methods of doing dishes is not practical, and not fitting for such a business that offers temporary residence. Who would think to serve their guests with dirty utensils? “Good morning there chap! The cold is nothing I can handle, been washing myself in colder waters before.” You smile and wave at him, still holding your bucket while walking towards the door. “Breakfast is ready at the tavern by the way! If you want anything more just tell my dad.” His back faces you as he goes back to scrubbing pots and pans. Your stomach rumbles again with the mention of food, better to head back to your room and get properly dressed for the day.

You walk back upstairs through the somewhat noisy hallway, it seems that there were a bunch of travelers that arrived around midnight. You head straight to your room, key in hand and twisting the knob open. There was a small rack beside the door, above where you first found the bucket that came with your room, you hang your towel there. With the door closed and curtains shut, you strip back down to your birthday suit, you need to change to cleaner clothes. You gotta admit that you should have brought a tunic or something before going down and washing up.

Flipping through your large backpack, you located a smaller bag for your dirty clothes then pulling out some boxers, a long sleeved shirt, and some cotton pants. You’ve got a collection of smaller bags within your bag, for shopping, holding things that must be separated, extra space if you needed it. When you first came into the inn, Mr. Egbert had thought you to be a merchant, thinking that your bag was filled with wares for selling. He was somewhat right, but you were no merchant. You do have a lot of stuff you plan on selling for some gold, in this case, you sold a gold necklace for a room.

You didn’t mind parting ways with that gold necklace, it was given to you as a gift. You were not much of a jewelry-wearer. Mr. Egbert, as superstitious man, asked the history of the necklace. He didn’t want bad luck to befall the person he plans on giving it to.

“It was given to me by my dearest friend. He was a man who likes making things with his hands.” You say as you place the necklace on Mr. Egbert’s hand. “If it was given to you, would that not be considered as a gift? Why would you be okay with giving someone else a present intended to be yours?” he asks as he appraises the object. The necklace catches the light of the lamp on the table, giving it an amber glint. “That friend of mine had given many things, more that I can hope of returning the favor” Your eyes haven’t left the necklace, throat feeling a little dry. You’ve sold many of your possessions before, getting attached to those things would just bring you trouble. “You need not to worry, that thing isn’t cursed, if it was, surely something had to happen to me already” you chuckle. You do hope that it wasn’t cursed, you don’t think he would curse you.

“That man then, he has a name doesn’t he? This necklace was carefully made, delicate even. I would not be surprised if this man was a famous jeweler. You’re quite lucky to be friends with him if that is so” he was looking at your eyes this time, soft but sharp, trying to see if you would lie to him. You smile at him, thinking about the young man who gave you that necklace.

“Oh yes he does have a name, forgive me for not saying the artisan’s name, silly of me to not mentioning it while I’m selling one of their pieces.” You honestly didn’t think you’d be mentioning his name ever again, but you think this is common courtesy for the buyer.

“His name was Dirk. Dirk Strider”

* * *

The village houses a little more than a hundred people. It’s not uncommon for a family to have eight people at most. The Egbert Family consists of three people, sans the recently departed Nanna Egbert. The inn was originally just a bakery for the village.

It was Mr.Egbert who told you the inn’s history. The village was small and didn’t get much foot traffic aside from travelling merchants. Back in the olden days when Nanna was still a child, the travelers would set camp just out of the forest. They pull out their flimsy tents and made campfires just outside of the village. With the altitude the village is in, weather was a constant misty mornings, clear afternoons, and cold evenings.

It’s not that the villagers would be scared of the travelers, it’s just that they were just too small to cater to those who arrive in their village. Nanna Egbert, a pure child, would often go out to their camps in the morning, bringing bread that was not sold on the previous day. The travelers, happy to meet a darling child, told her stories from their travels.

Nanna was absolutely delighted whenever there were new travelers going through their village. New stories to hear, news from the main city and other towns she never went to yet. You could not blame a girl to want to know about what was outside of the village she knew all her life.

It was when she was mingling with the travelers did she hear about things called inns. A place where travelers can stay for a short while before continuing on their journey. They thought it was weird that even for this small of a village, there was no inn to be found.

When Nanna had gone home that night, she had shared the idea of building an inn with her father. Her father was ever supportive of her ideas, and come morning had set out to ask the villagers for help in building the inn. Even the travelers that told Nanna of inns helped out constructing it.

The idea was that the bakery was upgraded into an inn. Her father had no objections to that. The future inn will continue its function as a bakery, still selling fresh bread. It was also decided that the inn would allow for a barter system for travelers. Nanna had observed that some of the travelers only had bare necessities with them, not a coin in sight.

Their stories, Nanna thinks, are enough of exchange for her, in which only then did her father throw an objection to that idea.

Day after day, Nanna dug holes while her father and the other villagers built walls. The holes were for setting a bit of foundation to support a building with two stories. Lumber from the outer part of the forest were used. It was thick and sturdy to use for the inn. The local atelier helped in making wooden furniture for the inn.

Some of the villagers were hesitant with helping the Egberts in constructing the inn. For the many generations did they see travellers going in and out of their village, and majority of those travelers never come back from the forest. That was the reason why there were stories of getting spirited away was formed amongst the local folklore.

The eldest generation however knew what was truly going on, yet they kept shut about it. Nanna was still a child, barely a young adult, they rather not put out a young flame’s passion. Nanna’s father knew too, but he also thought that maybe building this inn in their village would help in the long run. A service for those who planned on going beyond the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to delete the previous version of this chapter because I had changed quite a few things and added a little extra at the end.


End file.
